


Broken spirit

by Justwheezing



Category: Spider-Man - All Media Types
Genre: Angst, Blood and Injury, Gen, Hurt Peter Parker, Hurt and comfort, Mental Health Issues, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Panic Attacks, Peter Needs a Hug, Self-Harm, Vomiting
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-07-21
Updated: 2019-07-30
Packaged: 2020-07-10 02:40:34
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 6,258
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19898515
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Justwheezing/pseuds/Justwheezing
Summary: Peter couldn't breathe. Having a concrete building collapse on you is not fun





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first fic ever so I hope you enjoy it. It would be lovely if you could leave some comments and kudos because it would really mean a lot. This is gonna be a multi chapter fic but I don’t know how frequent I will be updating, I’ll just see how this does.  
> Sorry if I made any mistakes but yeah, Enjoy!

Peter couldn't breathe. Having a concrete building collapse on you is not fun. The air around him was thick and heavy which suffocated him of the breath he was slowly losing. In the reflection of the dripping puddle ahead of him, it illuminated the shear pain in his worn face that was inflicted by the vulture… the name made his heart quicken and he stiffened a quiet sob. The haunting silence left him to simmer in his thoughts, Why did I let this happen?

The vulture’s plan fighting him all along was for this, Peter has always been one step behind of everything. Everything Mr Stark complained about on that rooftop was true, he didn’t deserve the suit. No wonder he took it away from him, he’s no good.

With every wheeze for air, pain rippled through him as his broken ribs crushed together underneath the heap of concrete on top of him. Sickly somewhere at the back of his mind he believed it is the hell he deserved, for failing Mr Stark, Ben, May, his neighbourhood and himself. 

But he’s spiderman, he’s not supposed to be weak or vulnerable, that’s not what ‘superheroes’ are. But why does he feel this way? What would Tony think? He has nobody to blame but himself.

The concrete above him began to feel as if he had the whole world on him and it was unbearable up to the point where he thought he couldn’t do it anymore. No one would care if he dies, right? His mind was in a brutal battle and it was all too much for his heightened spidey senses. 

There was no doubt he needed to get out of there fast but not because he was going to die if he didn't, it’s because he didn't want to put Aunt May through any more loss. She doesn't deserve this but he did. 

A quiet sob fell from his lips, “help” it was barely a whisper as his breath hitched and the tears came flooding down his bloody cheeks. He deserved this, why didn’t I just listen to Mr Stark?

“Help”, the whisper became a soft call which put even more strain on his throbbing chest.

“i-I need help..please” his brittle voice cracked, “anyone im down her, help!” His voice raised to a timid shout. It all poured out followed by a wave of frantic coughing of thick blood, it felt as if was drowning, suffocating just like he was when he when he was younger, but Ben saved him, he's not here anymore. His breathing was suddenly out of control and unsteady he couldn't help it, no one was gonna hear him. 

“Peter” he bounced from shock of the sudden familiar voice. “You seem to be in extremely high s-stress and i can confirm multiple b-bone breakages and vital organ punctures” Karen spoke loudly and a bit stuttery due to damage.

Yeah no shit

“I advise you to return to safety immediately or you will die Peter”

No, he’s not going to die today, he’s spiderman who else is going to look out for the little guy if he’s gone. “Peter would you like me to alert Mr Stark he’s no-”

“N-No , Karen please… don't call him” Peter interrupted. What was he going to think of him, worthless, weak, brittle. Peter knew deep down he needed to get out of there. 

Peter closed his eyes and focused on getting his breathing back to normal. Too much time passed before it finally worked and he composed himself the best he could. It would be so much easier if he just stayed there but a conscious heavy pull on his heart persuaded him not to. What have I got to lose? 

“Come on Peter..” with the only strength remaining he could conger, he placed his numbing hands on the ground below him and pushed, causing the concrete on his back to rise. Rubble and rocks began to fall around him, he could do this. 

“Ahhh” Peter was left shrieking with pain as his arm buckled beneath him causing the concrete to collapse on him... again. The breath was compresses out of his body. Is there no end to my suffering?

Peter was wheezing now, he can hardly breath and the area around him began to turn blurry. Until his world goes black.

“Peter, you’ve lost too much blood, I’m alarming Mr Stark”

“He should be here shortly”

  
  



	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is not that good but I just wanted to upload.  
> Hope you enjoy and thanks for all the Kudos :)

Peter slowly opens his eyes but they sting at the sudden bright light that fills the room. He glances down his body to find that he’s in some hospital bed and is wearing a new set of sweatpants and grey t-shirt. His brows frown as he doesn’t quite understand where the hell he is. How did he get here?

His ears continue to ring and his body feels as if he’s been hit by a car over and over and over again. Peter groans in pain as he tries to slowly sit up but a sudden voice made him jump in surprise. 

“I wouldn’t do that Peter, you almost died” Bruce warned as he entered the room with a bottle of water and a strange cup. 

Peter’s eyes suddenly go wide as he can’t quite comprehend who just entered the room but looks down instantly in shame at his tone, does one of the smartest people in the world hate him already? Of course he does. He’s always such an inconvenience.

Doctor Bruce Banner casually walks towards him and hands him the contents in his hand. They share an awkward glance but he notices that his eyes are kind and concerning.

“Take these, it should help with the pain and it’s pretty strong so you will feel a bit drowsy.” Bruce explained and a small blush forms across Peter’s cheeks while swallowing the pills willingly. 

“Tony told me about the enhanced metabolism thing so I upped the dosage.” He choked slightly on the water at the mention of Mr Stark’s name. Was he here? What would he think if he saw him like this?

“H-How did I get here?” Peter quietly asked not really wanting to know the answer that he pretty much already knew.

“Well, I think you should ask Tony yourself, all I know is that he brought you in and was left in intensive care for a couple of days. He wasn’t happy”

Peter’s stomach suddenly drops at his answer. Why wasn't he happy? His heart began to beat a little faster but Bruce continued. “You have a room here in the tower but don't worry Tony has sorted it all out”

“I have a room?” 

“Yeah , with your injuries you’re very lucky to still be alive. We have scheduled appointments to check on you as you can probably feel you severely hurt your chest. You might find it harder to breathe but with your fast healing it should get better quickly. You’re other injuries need frequent medical care though” 

Peter nodded while he explained but dreaded the thought of ever speaking to Mr Stark again. When he finished, Bruce finally led Peter to his room in what he was guessing was the avengers tower. 

It took a long time to actually stand up though as he was in constant agony but didn’t want Bruce to know about it. He was already taking up all his time. 

Slowly, he began a slow pace behind Banner but embarrassingly had to stop around four times because he couldn't handle the strain it was putting on his body. He hated himself every time they stopped. Banner must've thought he was just a weak child that couldn’t even make it to his own room. 

Bruce never seemed annoyed or at least never showed it. When they entered the room it was everything and nothing that he expected it to be. He knew that Mr Stark was crazy rich but this room was massive. He didn’t deserve all this though. He betrayed his trust and went behind his back so why should he be treated so kindly?

Bruce led him to his king sized bed and made him lie down after the journey. “Tony would like to speak with you in his lab, he should call you when he’s ready” 

Walking to the door, he pointed at a mechanical wheelchair. “Use this, we don’t want you getting hurt anymore. Only get up if you need to use the toilet, okay?” 

“Yep, thanks” with a short nod Bruce left the room. Who’s ‘we’, surely Tony would be livid with him? He thought but now he was left alone and bed bound. This is an all too familiar feeling. 

May’s job meant that she was away constantly but he knew she really hated that aspect of the job. Peter wants May happy and when she’s working she’s happy. Anyway, May should never had to take care have him anyway so why should he complain. He didn’t deserve her love. 

Disregarding the Doctor's rules, he got up anyway and scanned the room. To the left of the bed there was a large mirror next to the huge closet that could fit a whole family’s set of clothes into. 

Peter stepped in front of the mirror to only realise how ugly he looks with all these cuts a scrapes on his body. The fear that some of the deep gashes will leave disgusting scars hits him hard and his eyes begin to sting. How pathetic. Maybe he deserves the tournament for the rest of his life. It’ll be a constant reminder of his stupid mistakes that he can never change but will ultimately have to try and cope with some way. 

Opposite the bed was the bathroom, it was huge and had one of those fancy baths with all the weird little settings. Shaking his head, he walked over to the sink and rummaged through the stuff that was left for him to use. 

In the cupboard it contained the essentials like shampoo, conditioner, body wash. But also it had face scrubs and a thousand different fancy moisturisers and oils which he will never use.

He chuckled to himself when he saw the shaving razor and foam. Did Mr Stark know he was only fifteen years old? Throughout school he was constantly teased for having a baby face, boy’s his age had started growing some stubble at least but he never has. He closed the cabinet and began to make his way back to the bed. 

Peter felt exhausted, the pills didn’t help, and without intending to, he slowly drifted off to sleep on one of the comfiest beds he’s ever been in.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry if I made any mistakes. Thanks for reading <3


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Maybe check the tags for this one but I hope you enjoy the chapter!  
> Just ignore any mistakes.

Peter suddenly jumps when JARVIS’ voice alerts him that Tony is ready to finally speak to him. What is it with Peter being scared out of his skin by sudden voices? Does everybody love torturing him? 

His grey t-shirt is now stained with cold sweat and hints of diluted blood. Rubbing his forehead, Peter turns in stiff neck to stare out of the window at the stars and realises that he must've slept for at least a couple of hours. 

As he sits up, he sees the mechanical chair now waiting next to him but he looks away knowing where is would take him. How was he ever going to face him knowing what he did?

Needing to change his clothes, Peter swings his legs off the bed and begins to stand up. Each step constricts his breathing and every breath was like sandpaper scraping along his chest. Pain clouds his brain and the room is filled with Peter’s frantic wheezing but he eventually makes it and opens his new closet that is filled with clothes. He was completely wrong in thinking that a little sleep would help, he’s honestly never felt worse. 

Selecting out a new star wars t-shirt, he subtly smiles, thinking, did Mr Stark really know him so well? Peter peels off his old t-shirt and begins to pull the new one over his head. 

Without realising at first, warm liquid suddenly trickles down his side and he takes his hand to wipe some of it away. Only when he really took into account that one of his smaller gashes on his chest had ripped slightly open, a wave of intense pain travels through his body. 

Shit, shit, shit 

Rushing towards the bathroom, he hisses in pain and grabs a towel from the rail to press against the wound. The blood soaked through the luxurious towel but after an excruciating couple of minutes which felt like hours eventually stopped the flow of blood. Thinking that this small cut caused so much pain, Peter was thoroughly grateful that the same thing didn’t happen to the other bigger ones, like the one right along his septum. Maybe someone was on his side. Then again here he his slouched over the sink, covered in blood and wincing all because he tried to change his clothes.

His worry steadily increases though, as he notices how he’s utterly ruining the things that his mentor gave to him. He’s stained his towels,dripped blood all along the tiles and carpet and ruined his clothes.

Peter ran the water and dampened the towel to wipe away his blood that has dripped down his body. While reaching to turn of the tap, he looked down at his shaking hand and instantly clenched his fist to stop it. What was wrong with him? It was a weird revelation because Peter has never experienced such anxiety to cause this reaction.

Pushing it to the back of his mind, he abandoned the towel in the sink, ringing it to get as much of his filthy blood out of it as possible as soon as he was finished. Examining himself in the mirror, the wound didn’t look extremely bad from his point of view but then again he was no doctor. 

Coming to the conclusion that he didn’t need to see Bruce again, Peter very slowly slotted one hand through the t-shirt and then the other and gently brought it up to slot over his head. So far successful. Dropping his arms he tugged at the bottom, until it was all the way on. Peter would take this as win but when the cotton fabric rubbed along the wound he instantly took that back. 

It must have been around 15 minutes since Tony has called to speak to him and Peter notes that in that short period of time he didn’t think of the talk he wanted to have with him. Pain really is a great distraction. 

The more he kept him waiting, the higher the anxiety became. A thousand thoughts rang around the room of what Mr Stark would think of keeping him waiting. Would he think he is rude? Probably. He has saved him from dying a very painful death, provided health care which he would never be able to repay in his entire life and gave him his own room to recover. And here Peter is wasting his time, reluctant to speak with him. 

Sighing heavily, he made his way back into the bedroom and slowly walked until he stood next to the wheelchair. The bigger part of Peter selfishly wants to just huddle up in his bed and never come out ever again but scolded himself at the utter unrealistic fantasy. 

Before changing his mind Peter sat down on the padded machine. And without warning he chair accelerated giving him slight whiplash, towards the door and he swiftly exited the only place he felt a tad bit comfort. 

The sudden speed made Peters stomach drop and he felt hot suddenly, sweat pooling in between his arms. Trying to blink through the unanticipated dizziness, the countdown glowing on the arm glared 56 seconds until arrival. 

“stop...STOP!!” Peter tried his best to stop this nauseating torture but nothing happened. He just continued on route. Shit

Peter clutched desperately onto the arms on the chair for some sort of control, resulting in his knuckles turning white. It was no good. 

God he was gonna throw up...or pass out or something else. But please not here in the hallway. He had to do something. With all the strength he had, Peter sort of ejected himself out of the wheelchair to the side quickly and astonishingly he didn’t fall flat on his face. The chair immediately stopped and so did Peter for a second. 

He stumbled past it, racing towards his room realising he was only a couple of metres away. Vibrating with anxious energy, he crashed his back against the closed door as soon has he entered and gulped down air into his all too tight lungs. Peter held his head in his hands until his breathing evened out slightly and his vision became less blurry. 

Peter was still breathing quite erratic when suddenly his mouth flooded with warm saliva and his stomach clenched only emitting a groan. As quickly as he possibly could, he rushed towards the toilet and the exact moment his knees crashed against the tiles, Peter retched up what felt like half of his stomach. 

His throat was burning with each heave, leaving acidic bile at the back of his mouth. After 5 minutes he was sure that it was finally over, spitting the rancid taste away from his mouth he inspects his vomit to find specks of blood. Was this normal? Of course it wasn’t but Peter was beyond exhaustion. Reaching for another clean towel he wiped his mouth and flushed the toilet to get rid of the smell that was beginning to stink out the whole room. 

Peter lied down and pressed his face against the cold tiles, his back uncomfortable under the hard surface but sighed in relief when he heard the silence. It was all over now even though he knew that that was a lie. 

Not having the energy to even think about the consequences, his eyes slowly begin to shut and the last thing he thinks about is what would Mr Stark do if he was to see him know? Laying on the floor surrounded by his own dried up blood and vomit, and sleeping in now another ruined t-shirt. He has no time to really think as he drifts off in one of the most uncomfortable places he's slept in.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know we haven't had any interaction with Tony yet but he should definitely be in the next chapter and maybe some of the other avengers.   
> Thanks for reading <3


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this took longer than the other chapters but this is over 3,000 words so it took a while.  
> Definitely check the updated tags. Enjoy!

This time Peter wakes up on his own accord, his neck is stiff and his stomach hurts not just from the injuries but also because he’s absolutely starving. He hasn’t eaten anything since the day of the accident. Emptying his stomach the night before made it impossible to have a decent night's rest and all he cares about now is food. 

  
  


Peter rubs his tired eyes, whilst still on the floor, staring blankly at the ceiling. Peter has never really been a morning person. He can't count how many times May has had to physically force him out of bed for school, when all he really wanted to do is stay there all day. It’s not like he’s ever hated school, sure it’s stressful as hell but at least he has Ned and sometimes MJ to make it somewhat bearable for him. 

  
  


Wait, how many days has he been here? He really has never wanted to become too far behind on school work. If it was anybody else they would have loved to miss that much time off school but when he fought with Mr Stark and the rest of the avengers in Germany, he was almost two weeks behind the rest of his classmates. That's around 60 hours of complicated, new assignments and projects that took forever to catch up with and fully understand, especially because Ned is completely useless at explaining things. The time he tried to define the difference between meiosis and mitosis was particularly tricky because Ned didn't completely know what he was talking about either. Luckily for him it was coming up to Christmas break so Peter spent most of his time revising the different topics and eventually caught up.  _ Thank God _

He lifted his stained t-shirt until it reached his chin, he noticed that his injuries had become better but still definitely needed much more time to recover, even his fast healing couldn’t fully heal himself. Pulling it back down, he braced his hands on the tiled floor and lifted his body until he’s faced the mirror above the sink. 

  
  


The bags under his eyes had become darker but the scrapes on his face had become lighter. He ran his hand through his greasy hair trying to style it the best he could and washed his face with a splash of water. He made his way back to the closet and picked out a new pair of black sweatpants and a plain white t-shirt, carefully putting them on. 

  
  


“Jarvis, what time is it?” Peter asked hoping that he hasn’t slept for too long and missed out on breakfast. Even Though it’s the last place he wants to be. Maybe he could sneak something back to his room then nobody would have to bother him. 

  
  


“Good Morning Peter, it’s 9:42 am. Breakfast is being served in the communal kitchen” Jarvis chimed in a smooth male voice. 

  
  


A sudden jolt of happiness shoots through him at the prospect of filling his stomach back up. “Who’s in the kitchen?” asked Peter. 

  
  


“It appears that Natasha, Steve and James Barnes are currently there right now, Doctor Banner just left.” Three avengers is not that bad coming to think of it. The feud between the two sides had dissipated a few months back but it made him quite uneasy as he fought against at least two of them. They wouldn’t hold a grudge against him, would they? 

  
  


Peter decided that if he didn’t go now he would have to wait at least a couple more hours until lunch and he knew he couldn’t last that long. He was on the verge of fainting as it is, especially because Peter normally ate double the portion size of a normal teenager everyday. 

  
  


So Peter started for the kitchen in hopes that he wouldn’t get lost, but he remembered walking past it before so he had a rough idea. The more he walked, the louder the voices became and Peter swallowed his nerves with a dry mouth. 

  
  


He stopped at the end of the hallway, which would lead to the kitchen and the living room which is sort of the area next to it. He noticed that it had a couple of sofas surrounding flat screen TVs. Mr Stark told him before about nights where they would spend watching films and eating take out together. Peter was never invited to any of those. He knew that they wouldn’t want an excitable teenager pointing and talking throughout the whole film so he understood. 

  
  


Looking back to the kitchen, Bucky and Steve were sat on adjacent stools in front of the counter, eating what looked like was toast and conversed in friendly conversation. Natasha was leaning against the counter stirring something that smelt like honey in a pot and Peters mouth watered. Peter built himself up and continued walking. 

  
  


“Bruce said to let you now that you’ve got an appointment with him at 1:00. He’d figured you’d need to come out and have breakfast soon” Nat said looking over the shoulders in front of her. They were all looking at him now and he stopped in his tracks. 

  
  


He nodded but still didn’t say anything, feeling watched and out of place. Peter then walked over to stand at the edge of the counter and both men greeted him with a friendly “g'morning” and a little smile. He really didn’t know what to do or say but replied the same. 

  
  


There was a pregnant pause. “Do you like oatmeal?” Nat asked breaking them out of silence. Peter lifted his eyes to meet hers. Normally for breakfast he would just grab a banana, that’s probably the reason he was so hungry when it came to lunch in school.

  
  


He never has oatmeal. He thinks it’s too posh but the real reason is that it’s expensive and time consuming but he was looking forward to it. He would look forward to eating anything at this point.

  
  


He nodded his head and Natasha opened the bottom cupboard to the far right and grabbed an extra bowl for him and a spoon. She turned the hob off and filled both bowls evenly. Peter felt a bit bad, he was technically having half of her breakfast but appreciated her kindness with a quiet “thanks.” Her lips curled up and she stared down the hallway with the bowl in her hand. 

  
  


He was still anxious being around heroes like them , he felt out of place like he didn’t belong there. He didn’t actually. The only reason he’s in the kitchen with Cap, Bucky and Nat was because Tony had to save him. 

  
  


Peter sat down on the counter but left a space between them and began to demolish his breakfast. He was finished in no time and walked towards the sink to swirl his bowl, he had no idea who cleaned this place but he thought it was the least he could do to help. Once he set the bowl back down, the others got up and placed their plates inside the sink as well. 

  
  


“How are you feeling? it looks like you took a real beating” Steve asked thoughtfully. Peter understood that they both have been through so much worse than him so he didn’t want them to know how how was actually feeling, which was  _ fucking terrible _ . 

  
  


“I survived so I’m alright, I guess” Peter replied but immediately looked down to his feet as he felt his cheeks reddened. Why was he so nervous in front of them? He hated himself. He’s never been great with talking to new or newish people which is why he’s only really had Ned and MJ as friends.

  
  


“Well, we’re glad you’re okay. It’s nice to have a new face in the tower.” He said and both avengers smiled and walked in the same direction as Natasha, leaving Peter alone in the Kitchen. 

  
  


Peter became more courageous, with no one looking at him, he had a snoop in all the cupboards. One was filled with plates and bowls, another was cluttered with cooking appliances and another piled up with packaged and canned food. That definitely interested Peter. 

  
  


Picking out a Blueberry protein bar, Peter sat in the same seat again and began eating in the silence of the kitchen. He simmered in his thoughts, and was genuinely happy with how the morning had gone so far. He took this as a win. Peter whipped his head to the left as he heard footsteps coming his way. He thought he was going mad because no one had entered the kitchen yet. 

  
  


The next thing he knew, Tony came over and slapped him on the back as a sort of friendly greeting. He choked on a small piece of the protein bar he was halfway through and awkwardly coughed up what was lodged in his throat. 

  
  


“Jesus kid, you look awful. No offence by the way I’ve looked worse than you, well maybe” Tony jokes and quietly chuckles at his own joke. Peter just looks at him with an agape mouth because he’s acting like nothing has happened. He was relieved that his tone was friendly. 

  
  


Peter has to admit he was surprised by his reaction. He hadn't seen him since the rooftop but the sudden shock has made him speechless. His cheeks slightly blush and he can feel his entire body becoming warmer. 

  
  


“Did you even sleep last night?” Tony was talking so casually to him and Peter’s mind went the previous night and how much he dreaded ever being where he is currently right now. He was doing okay though. It’s all good. His mouth was dry, his lungs felt tight but he hadn’t crumbled yet. He tried to encourage himself in order to dissipate the rising tension that he caused because it came to his attention that he didn't respond to anything he said. 

  
  


Tony just stared at him, his eyebrows frowned with concern as Peter shifted to sit on his trembling hands. He noticed he took a few deep breaths. In a split second, his face filled with annoyance when he didn’t reply.

  
  


“Well, you clearly didn’t have enough to come see me even after I saved you, or does that mean nothing to you?” Tony replied, he was clearly irritated and the concern he saw was gone. It was like a cold shower for Peter and his body instantly sprang into action. 

  
  


“Of course it does Mr Stark bu-” Peter was cut off suddenly by his mentor. 

  
  


“I wouldn’t even mind if it was only for 5 minutes but you couldn't even do that, could you? You didn’t even have to walk and I even gave you time to nap” Tony snapped and Peter flinched his head, he glanced down into his lap to compose himself until he felt decent enough to reply. 

  
  


“If you really wanted to see me you could have come to me, like Bruce said I almost died.” he was getting worked up now, he didn’t have the first idea of what he was feeling. _ Patronizing Asshole  _ “And I-I would of been fine if you didn’t take my suit away”

  
  


Tony scoffed at that which only infuriated Peter more. “Seriously?, ‘my suit’. I gave you that suit, you hear me, I made it and I gave it to a 14 year old idiot who can’t even be trusted with it” spat Tony while pointing his finger in face. 

  
  


That stung Peter. He’s pretty sure his heart has just ripped in half. The person he looked up to the most had just made him feel like the most ignorant person in the whole world. Blinking away the tears that had started to flood his bloodshot eyes, he chewed the inside of the side cheek to distract himself.

  
  


“I shouldn’t even be having the conversation” He rubs his forehand and pinches the bridge of his nose. “I took the suit away for a reason kid, or have you forgotten the time you almost killed all those people on that boat? I had to save you then and I've had to save you now. Again. I’m tired of picking up all your shit!” His voice rising. 

  
  


“Why did you even save me then?” Tony noticed something in his voice then. It was trembling and broken. “If I cause so much trouble you should have just let me die there. I deserved it, didn't I”

  
  


“How could you even ask me that” it was more of a statement rather than a question. Tony was taken back. He cared more about the kid than himself sometimes and seeing him that night broke his heart. Yes he was angry at him but he always wants him safe. Always alive. He wouldn't be able to live with himself if he let that happen. 

  
  


But right now he had to teach Peter a lesson. Even though he sounded like his dad, he needed to teach him that he couldn’t save everyone and that he shouldn’t be doing all this at this age, It’s just too risky, Peter’s had just proven that. 

  
  


“Like I said, If you died I’d feel like that’s on me. So when you’re out there thinking you can take on the fucking world. You can’t. You’re a teenager not an avenger. You’re no-”

  
  


Peter couldn’t take it anymore. His whole body was shaking and hyperventilating. The last thing Peter wants is for his mentor to see him break down, he looks wounded. Peter was a little too late because he felt a hand on his shoulder and Tony must of felt the tremor and heat from his body. 

  
  


“Peter what’s wr-” All anger was gone from his voice but Tony was cut off by Peter jumping from his seat and ran straight towards his room, well not his but he didn’t care. 

  
  


He didn’t care when his wounds rubbed up against his shirt when he ran, he didn’t care when he couldn’t breathe and he didn’t care when he heard footsteps behind him. He didn’t care anymore. Crashing through his door, Peter immediately locked it behind him and commanded Jarvis to not let anyone in, especially not Tony. 

  
  


Peter’s cheeks were stained and every time he breathed in he choked back another sob causing his breathing to become erratic. He had no idea of what to do, all he wanted was it for it to stop, he wanted everything to stop, he wanted May to make it better but he was alone and absolutely terrified.

  
  


It felt like he was dying, placing his hand on his chest he felt his heart beating faster than he’s ever thought possible and that scared him. Without thinking he staggered towards the bathroom and locked himself in there as well. 

  
  


With each passing second, he became fainter and fainter and he’s surprised he hasn’t collapsed already but at least it would all end. 

  
  


Opening the cupboard, he scanned the items frantically, desperately trying to find something to help calm him down, to make him numb, to stop the pain. Nothing seemed to be helpful, but then again he didn’t know exactly what he was looking for or what would do what he wanted. 

  
  


Peter was about to slam the cupboard door shut, when his eyes stared at something on the bottom shelf. It stopped him in his tracks and made his pounding in his head even louder than he thought possible. Swallowing hard, Peter reached and grabbed it in his trembling hand, wincing when he saw his hand shaking again. Something was definitely wrong with him. 

  
  


The strain on his legs was unbearable so he uncomfortably sat on top of the toilet seat, placing his head in hands. He tried taking in a deep breath but only resulted in intense pain in his chest. Nothing was working and at this point he would rather be dead than endure another minute of this torture. 

  
  


When he thought he had no options left, Peter took the plastic protector from the blades of the shaving razor and placed it flat against the inside of him left arm. For a moment he closed his eyes, but a conscious part of his clouded brain stopped him. What if someone saw it? It would be so difficult to try and hide if he did it there, so what if he didn’t somewhere else?. 

  
  


Peter awkwardly rose to shuffle his sweatpants until they came to his knees, and sat back down. He thought it would be much easier to hide and without much hesitation he placed the blades flush against the top of his right thigh.

  
  


Peter admits that he has thought of doing this before. His life has never been easy, especially when Ben died. He didn't get out of bed for weeks and hardly ate, and if it wasn’t for May always checking up on him he could of done it. At that time he felt nothing and he blamed himself for his death which he grew to understand that it wasn’t true. 

  
  


Those feelings were all to familiar right now, so Peter took in a pained wheezed and hissed when the cold blades ran across his electric skin. Raising the shaver, his skin was torn and the few cuts where found slightly dripping with blood. He hadn’t cut deep and was surprised to find it hadn’t hurt as much as he was expecting it to. The sobbing had stopped and he felt lighter because of that. 

  
  


The new found pain in his leg had distracted him of the argument he had with Mr Stark a few minutes before and he was genuinely grateful for the relief he was now feeling. Grabbing a towel which was on the floor next to him, he rinsed it under water and wiped away the drying blood of his wounds. He caused those. He was actually in control for once in his life. He could control and stop the pain. 

  
  


Would he ever he self-harm again? He didn’t know. Probably. He’s found an escape from his erratic emotions and it has allowed him to take his mind off those things. Peter took in a few deep breaths, he could still feel the burning sensation from where he cut but the rest of his body was cool. It was a lovely feeling. 

  
  


Peter stood again and brought his pants back up his legs, the fabric felt uncomfortable against his fresh new wounds but the results where greater than the pain it caused. He never knew if Tony had tried to get in his room or not but he thought if he really cared that much then he would have. 

  
  


Bending down with the damp towel, Peter began to clean the dried up blood and puke off the floor from the previous night. Also he ran the razor underneath the stream of water to rid his blood and placed it back to it’s previous place, like nothing had happened. 

  
  


Exiting the bathroom, He realised that he still had to wait another 2 hours until he had to visit Bruce for his regular check ups, so to pass the time Peter switched on the TV and relaxed on the bed. Finally he could rest.


End file.
